I Hate You, I Love You
by roxierocks
Summary: Harry and Severus have a fight. Then they make up, and Harry says something he probably shouldn't...You and Me Series 3


disc: don't own it

warnings: slash

a/n: part of what I am now calling the "You and Me Series". Thanks for all your reviews on "Perhaps A Smile". It was very exciting to see my inbox all full!

You 're pissed off. Really pissed off.

For some reason he's irritating you today. Maybe it was he way he cleared his throat and stared pointedly at the unmade bed when you wanted to have a shower. Maybe it was the fact that he didn't even glance at you when you came into his lesson. Maybe it's because he's vanished your potion, again, even though it looked fine to you.

And now he's asked you to stay behind after class. To have a 'talk', no doubt.

"Alright," he sounds tired, and for a moment you think of forgetting it, telling him you're fine and going to lunch with everyone else.

"What is it? I don't have time for your silly games this morning."

Silly games? Anger shoots through your veins. Why should you be nice, when he's always so bloody mean? 

You look at him.

He is tired. You can see the shadows under his eyes, how could you not have noticed them this morning? His skin is paler than usual, his eyes a little dull.

"Potter, I'm waiting."

If only he hadn't said that. You're not walking away now.

"I'm sick of the way you treat me," you announce.

"Really?" He looks faintly bored, as though you've had this conversation a thousand times before.

"Yes. I'm sick of the way you always act as if you're above me. I'm sick of the way you try to put me down all the time. I'm sick of the way you call me Potter. I have a name! It's Harry!"

You're shouting now, though you don't really notice.

"I hate the way you have to always dress in black! I hate the fact that you never sleep in with me in the mornings! I hate that you're one thing with me and another with everyone else!"

He raises an eyebrow. "Anything else Potter?"

Oh, that infuriates you.

"Yes!" you shout. "I hate the way you're so cold all the time. I hate the way you make me feel worthless. I hate the fact that you can't act as if you're human."

"I am human!" he roars, taking a step toward you, eyes flashing.

But you are too caught up even to notice you've provoked a reaction.

"I HATE YOU!" you scream.

There is silence. Your faces are just inches apart, your breathing thick and heavy.

Something flares between you, something irresistible.

Suddenly you're on each other, lips meshing in harsh, passionate kisses, teeth clashing, tongues tangling.

You groan as his hands pull at your robes, your own mirroring his actions. You feel flesh on flesh.

He pushes you over the desk, face down, and his hands, oh his hands, are everywhere.

He moves inside you. Fast, furious. You cry and arch your back, feel his fingers dig into your hips, and then you're falling, falling and his arms are around you, holding you, catching you. 

You lay there in silence. He doesn't move, but you don't want him to. Something has passed between you, though you're not sure what.

"I don't hate you," you whisper to the desk.

"I know."

You hesitate, then add "And you don't make me feel worthless. Just the opposite. You make me feel cared for, different, important. Like I'm the only one in the world."

Your tongue's got away from you. You quiet, afraid you've said too much, afraid of pushing him away.

He doesn't reply. Oh damn.

Then you feel his lips. So, so gentle, just behind you ear, the softest of butterfly kisses.

He doesn't need to say anything.

Reality falls upon you both, and he pulls away, suddenly remembering where you are. You stand up, fixing your clothes, startled by the sudden, idiotic blush that stains your cheeks. 

You just did it on the potions desk. On your potions desk. You'll never look at the desk in the same way again.

He knows what you're thinking, and his lips curl in an almost smile.

"Lunch," he says.

You nod. "I'll see you later."

At the door you turn around.

"Severus?"

He raises an eyebrow.

"I love you."

He freezes. His mouth drops open. His eyes go wide.

You wish you had a camera.

Before he can recover from the shock, you close the door, practically running along the stone passageway.

Your hands are shaking.

Sweet Merlin, what have you done?  
Still, it was quite funny to see the expression on his face.

You bite your lip. What if he never speaks to you again?

You catch a glimpse of yourself in a large cabinet as you rush by. You face is still flushed, your hair all messy, your eyes bright.

You smile.

Maybe he will speak to you again.

You know he'll never say it back, but at the moment it's enough just to have him.

You grin to yourself. You have a feeling that expression is going to make a reappearance every time you say those words.

You'll have to say them a lot.


End file.
